


Passing Blues

by glitterpile



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Coffee Shops, Fluff, M/M, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 12:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpile/pseuds/glitterpile
Summary: Yuuri stopped near the doors to the kitchen and exhaled wearily. Why doesn’t anyone equip cafes with special emergency buttons labelled “harassment”? Hitting on waitstaff only looks like a good idea from the outside. In reality, Yuuri, despite his plainness, was in possession of a significant number of such pieces of paper. And sure, maybe everyone who offered their number was decent enough, but they all shared a single trait which overrode every possible mark in their favour.They all required time investment. But all Yuuri wanted was to go to bed. Alone. To get some sleep.Translated from Russian.





	Passing Blues

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Временный блюз](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763439) by [ZenosElea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZenosElea/pseuds/ZenosElea). 



> coffeeshop!AU about the sad life of an engineering student 
> 
> Viktor’s first song choice: Austin Mahone – Say Somethin  
> Yuuri’s first song choice: Meghan Trainor – NO  
> Yuuri’s last song choice: Pentatonix – Cheerleader (OMI cover)

Being a student is the most wonderful time in a person’s life. It’s a time when you study new topics, learn to live independently, meet new people, perform crazy feats, fall in love…    
  
In some sort of scripted TV show, maybe.   
  


If someone had, for example, asked  _ Yuuri  _ about what student life was like, he would have simply run straight past, mumbling: “Sorry, I don’t have time.” That was his response to almost all questions directed his way, even if it was Phichit, standing in front of the open fridge, asking him what they should make for dinner. Sometimes Yuuri got so flustered that he woke up in the middle of the night feeling certain that his alarm was about to go off, and he would immediately have to drag himself to his first lecture, from there to work, then back to the dorms and over and over in that cycle. These interruptions in his sleep made him feel even worse come the morning. 

  
That’s why he wasn’t particularly aware of the supposed good aspects of this chapter in his life, only the endless exhaustion and the desire for the whole world to collapse into a singularity and finally stop tormenting him. 

  
“Yuuri, hey, wait up!” Anna flew at him like a vulture in the corridor and grabbed him by his bag strap. Yuuri came to an abrupt stop and blinked madly – when he was half-asleep he sometimes walked straight into trees, to saying nothing of struggling to recognise people. “I need a favour.”

  
“What kind?” – he asked cautiously. 

  
“Can you cover for me today? I really can’t make it. I’ve got to retake an exam tomorrow, and I’m looking at a fail if I flunk it,” Anna blurted out in one go, her hands folded in a prayer. Yuuri paused in thought. Today was his day off, and he kinda was hoping to get some sleep. At least a little. In his breaks between drafting and memorising past exam papers. But on the other hand, this could let him free up his Sunday. And he could sleep then, too – in between writing up his lecture notes and editing blueprints. 

  
“Could you take my shift on Sunday?”

  
“Of course! Thank you so much!” Anna pecked him on the cheek and whizzed off down the corridor, to join her gaggle of friends crowding around the schedule on the noticeboard. 

  
Yuuri sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses out of the way. Sometimes he had to remind himself why he had even left Hasetsu for god-damned Detroit. Because without constant reminders, the surrounding tedium felt dumb and pointless. 

  
Honestly, with his current level of sleep deprivation,  _ everything _ looked dumb and pointless. Despite that, even with his current level of stress and pressures, Yuuri was pretty glad to live and study here – yes, it was hard, yes, there was no time to live a normal life, but it did get easier than this. Right now it was still mid-semester, and there were always more people around in spring, but in summer the load would be lighter.   
  
Indeed, this hellish routine did at least have one definite upside – his anxiety, for example, didn’t bother Yuuri anywhere near as much as it did at the start of his degree.

  
Because he simply had no time to be anxious. 

  
*   
  
Yuuri preferred evening shifts to morning ones, and not just because they were less busy. It was just that in the morning the smell of coffee made him nauseous and want to sink, crying, onto the floor, whereas in the evening it was exactly what he needed, it energised him, boosted him up – and besides, the floor was freshly mopped and it wouldn’t do to lie on it. Even better was when regulars came in, with whom everything was pretty simple – everyone knew each other, smiles all round, your usual?, yes, thank you; all that was left was to not collapse face first onto the tray and then smack the tray into a nearby Phichit. 

  
It was very convenient when they happened to be rostered on the same shift. It meant that it was less likely that Yuuri would fall asleep on the Qline home. 

  
After several lectures in a row about modern methodologies for testing foundations his head felt like mush, and Yuuri felt like at any moment he would find himself saying “field methods for investigation include electrocontact dynamic probing” instead of “thank you, here’s your receipt”. He wasn’t entirely positive that he  _ hadn’t _ recited something or other from his lecture notes, because Phichit kept winking at him oddly and shaking his head. 

  
Maybe he was trying to hint at something. Or it was the start of a nervous tic. The latter was more likely. 

  
“Are you ready to order?”, Yuuri stopped at a table and gave a practiced smile. 

  
He got a smile back. His anxiety said: “Wow, what an attractive man, why don’t you drop your notepad and blush all the way to your toes.” Three hours of sleep said: “Are you sure that you’re actually smiling, and not merely assessing the homogeneity of cement?” 

  
The man’s hair was exactly the right colour for that. Neatly arranged, with a fringe to one side. And he was watching him with interest, and smiling. Yuuri took down his order, rudely hiding his face behind his notepad. It was definitely not fair for such attractive people to come to coffee shops in the evening – they make poor overwhelmed staff waste precious energy on being embarrassed and staring. 

  
In any case, these thoughts didn’t last very long – there were other tables to take care of, and Yuuri had managed to forget all that nonsense until the man called him over again to request the bill. The smile, it seemed, hadn’t left his face the whole time, and that was somewhat unnerving. Humans are the type of creature that, if their basest needs are not met, will operate entirely on the level of those needs, so it was completely unsurprising that tired Yuuri found a stranger’s happiness just the tiniest bit annoying. 

  
At least he got a sizeable tip out of it. And a piece of paper with a phone number, signed “Viktor” underneath. 

  
Yuuri stopped near the doors to the kitchen and exhaled wearily. Why doesn’t anyone equip cafes with special emergency buttons labelled “harassment”? Hitting on waitstaff only looks like a good idea from the outside. In reality, Yuuri, despite his plainness, was in possession of a significant number of such pieces of paper. And sure, maybe everyone who offered their number was decent enough, but they all shared a single trait which overrode every possible mark in their favour. 

  
They all required time investment. But all Yuuri wanted was to go to bed. Alone. To get some sleep. 

  
That’s why this latter opportunity for a love life was likewise tossed into the trash can, with only a smidgen of regret – it was a pretty name. And his hair was unusual, possibly even natural. His eye colour was hard to make out in the soft lighting… Ah, who cares. Maybe he was a tourist anyway.   
  
“So, another unlucky bastard ensnared in your web?” Phichit started opening the door, and Yuuri immediately rushed to help him, seeing his loaded tray. 

  
“Someday people will stop thinking it’s normal to approach waitstaff on the job, and I will be just that tiny bit happier.”

  
Phichit snorted and walked off into the shop, while Yuuri stayed back to await the next order. All the jokes about him being a heartbreaker were somewhat annoying, because, truly, it was a ridiculous idea. If Yuuri hadn’t been so overloaded with work and study, he likely would be incredibly awkward and clumsy in these interactions, and would get far less attention. Phichit claimed otherwise, but his opinion was not to be trusted because he was his best friend and, like all besties, was convinced that Yuuri deserved the world.   
  
In any case, their shift went on. 

  
In the corner booth, where Yuuri was headed with his tray, were two regulars who were there for him in particular – two girls, one talking very meekly and the other responding to her very loudly. He dropped off the order of a severe-looking businesswoman and headed over to them with a smile. 

  
“Good evening. Your usuals?” 

  
“Yes please,” the loud one answered for both of them and winked. Yuuri nodded and went back to the kitchen.   
  
He liked them. And not just because they left good tips. On their first visit one of them, just like that Viktor, had slipped a napkin with a phone number under the bill – Yuuri suspected that the Loud Girl had egged on the Meek Girl. Then they had come back another time, giggling as they watched him – and had stayed as regulars. Sometimes Meek came on her own, with her study notes, and Yuuri would top up her coffee without needing to be asked. Loud never came alone, but she had her own specialty – any time that Yuuri mixed something up or was clumsy in transferring the cups from his tray to the table, she would deflect any potential awkwardness with her cheerful chatter. And that was despite the fact that she should have made a complaint. 

  
There were other regulars too – one lady who always came two hours before closing to read Kafka, a thin and nervous young man who only ever came for at most 15 minutes but always managed to grab one of Yuuri’s tables. And plenty others besides. Phichit, whose schedule meant he usually grabbed the morning shifts, regularly reported on a couple who always asked for coffee to go and would sweet-talk each other like in a sitcom romance.   
  
“Don’t you mean like a movie romance?” Yuuri had asked then in some confusion. 

  
“No, dude. Like in a sitcom. Have you ever seen a romance movie where the girl tells the guy he’s the ‘guacamole of her heart’? Me neither.” Phichit confirmed. 

  
That’s why, on the whole, Yuuri kinda liked working at the cafe. But he was only willing to admit that when he managed to get at least seven hours of sleep, and that happened once a month, or less if he was unlucky. 

  
*   
  
Ah, those wonderful moments, when the manager is off somewhere else and your minor errors don’t become an icebreaker on a collision course with your pathetic little paycheck-iceberg. It’s only thanks to those moments that awkward situations can be saved, instead of them rapidly turning into major catastrophes. 

  
For example, just now Yuuri had acted like a complete idiot. 

  
He had walked out onto the shop floor, without his tray, carrying only his notepad, seen the familiar cement-coloured – what’s with that dumb association anyway? – hair and did the best thing he could under the circumstances. 

  
Turned on his heel and walked straight back out.   
  
Panic consumed him only after he had gone through the door, along with a dawning comprehension of how utterly stupid he had just looked – Viktor had noticed him. He’d even had time to smile at him. And Yuuri had just turned around and high-tailed it out of there like some sort of fucking moonlighting ninja, all he needed for the full effect was some fake whooshing wind noises in the background. And for what, even? It’s not like it was the first time someone had come by again after hitting on him. Take Meek Girl and Loud Girl, for starters.   
  
Alright, fine, maybe Yuuri was feeling awkward because he thought Viktor was kinda cute. And also because he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to run into him again. 

  
But even that was no excuse for acting like such a dumbass. 

  
“I need your help,” he grabbed Phichit’s sleeve and dragged him into the alcove between the kitchen and the dining area. “Please.” 

  
“Let me guess: your latest Romeo has decided to go the stalking route?”   
  
“Yes. No. I’m not sure. Just take his table for me, please.” 

  
“Oh, I dunno,” Phichit rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s fate. He looks pretty hot.” 

  
“I’ll cook pad thai and wash all our dishes for a week,” Yuuri hadn’t even planned to put the extra bribery into play, but he definitely didn’t want to go anywhere near Viktor. Not today, Satan, not today.

  
Phichit had been on board already from just the mention of food, it looked like, and a few moments later was giving a cheerful smile to a slightly surprised Viktor. Yuuri walked past with a poker face, taking the order of the next table over, and did his best to not turn to look too many times. 

  
But he could still feel an inquisitive pair of eyes boring into the back of his head. 

  
This wasn’t the first time, sure, but this time around felt particularly awkward. Especially because Yuuri had reacted so stupidly. It had been a marginally better outcome than spilling something in Viktor’s lap, but definitely much worse than his standard option of tactfully ignoring the person.  

  
A few orders later Phichit himself grabbed him and slipped a twice-folded piece of paper into his hand. Yuuri opened it up without thinking on his way to the next table – they often gave each other messages this way in peak times, when there were too many customers to allow for a pause. 

  
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable” was written in the note. That, of course, was not Phichit’s handwriting. 

  
_ Someone _ would no longer be getting their promised pad thai and could do their own goddamn dishes. 

  
Yuuri took an order, started to head back and, of course, ended up meeting Viktor’s gaze – and his guilty smile. For a second Yuuri wanted to apologise to him, but then he blushed intensely and hurried to make some distance, heading in search of Phichit who would not be smiling for very much longer. 

  
But this had been the first such polite customer who had acknowledged his mistake. 

  
Even if Yuuri himself, after some thought, wouldn’t really have thought of it as a mistake at all. 

 

*   
  
Sometimes it turned out that he didn’t get a single day off the entire week, and that was the point at which Yuuri started to believe in a god. Because only celestial interference stood between him and a hospital visit due to nervous breakdown or physical exhaustion. Coffee made him want to throw up, and it wasn’t particularly effective anyway. Sometimes, when everything was particularly terrible and he had no way to reschedule or skip either classes or work, Yuuri threw caution to the wind regarding his immune system and heart health to reach for nootropics and mixing coffee with energy drinks, which tasted like the third circle of hell but did guarantee a minimum of one and a half hours of wakefulness at a time. 

  
It was thanks to this last concoction that he was now clinging to consciousness, grasping at the railing on the train. Based on his current state, he estimated that he had roughly fifteen minutes until his brain told him “goodnight” and dropped into sleep mode on the spot. And that wouldn’t exactly be a good thing, because Phichit was not with him either. 

  
It wasn’t all that bad, of course. Yuuri never fell asleep right there in the middle of the carriage, it was more likely that he’d simply get off on the wrong stop. That had definitely happened before. The worst of it was that the lack of sleep made him completely unable to string together English words coherently, which meant that any resulting mumbling he dragged out of himself wasn’t useful in trying to get home via taxi. 

  
Someone touched his elbow. Yuuri looked down and saw Viktor sitting in front of him. He then said something. Wow. 

  
Truthfully, if Yuuri hadn’t already been awake for the second day straight, he would have blushed, or taken off his headphones and answered, or done something else silly, but alas, all he was capable of was attempting to force his eyes to focus. And even that didn’t quite work out. He definitely couldn’t take off his headphones right now – the screaming music was necessary to try to keep his brain on this side of consciousness. 

  
Viktor looked like he had a realisation, leaned over his phone, and then showed Yuuri the screen. 

  
“Are you ok?” was written in the open notes app. 

  
“No”, Yuuri typed back in complete honesty, hoping that he had in fact typed “no” and not “groundwater hydrology”, for example. 

  
Then Viktor stood and promptly sat Yuuri down in his seat, while he stood in front and started typing something new on his phone screen. 

  
“Are you on something or have you just gone too long without sleep?” the next question shone at him. 

  
Yuuri at first wanted to laugh, and then to maybe cry, because his fine motor skills had barely managed to cope with the previous “no”, but after around ten seconds of staring at the line of text a genius idea entered his head. 

  
He simply selected and underlined both “on something” and “too long without sleep”. 

  
Viktor looked like he chuckled at that, and then offered him the phone again.   
  
“Which stop are you getting off on?”   
  
“M Av”   
  
“Ok. Should I see you off?” 

  
“No”, typed Yuuri, the instant he saw the question. Right now he may not care what’s happening, but later he would definitely care, and it would be a dick move to leave behind this mess for future Yuuri to deal with.

 

Maybe on some level Yuuri did want Viktor to walk him home. But Yuuri also wanted Viktor to not ever see him looking like this, like some sort of cross between a drug addict and a vampire. Better to not make the impression any worse than it already was.    
  
That’s why when Viktor put a hand on his shoulder, Yuuri jumped up and left the carriage, not even saying goodbye or removing his headphones. He thought that he had maybe five or ten minutes of wakefulness remaining – that should be enough to reach the dorms, and possibly even the right corridor, and after that he could leave it to Phichit to figure out where to deposit him.

  
*   
  
“Fuck,” Yuuri muttered into his pillow.   
  
He had overslept and missed his lecture – which wasn’t too big a deal, actually, Anna had taken photos of the slides and already dropped them into his private messages. He was still lying in bed – ok, that was worse, but half the class was always late to the tutorials anyway.   
  
The shittiest thing was that yesterday Yuuri had somehow magically bumped into Viktor on the train and brushed him off a second time, having been completely wrecked due to lack of sleep.   
  
“Look, don’t stress about it,” Phichit sat next to him and started petting Yuuri on the head, then just lay down alongside. He was getting ready for work, but for some reason was still hanging around here. “Big deal. So you looked like a zombie, who hasn’t. Seriously. You could have had all sorts of things in your life to cause that, he wouldn’t know. Plus, he’s just the latest in a long line of randoms hitting on you, what difference does it make what he thinks?”    
  
“None,” replied Yuuri and dragged the blanket over his head. “Fuck.” 

  
“Enough. Relax. Just chuck something at him if you meet him again,” Phichit slapped his back and stood. “If he comes in again, I’ll take his table. If I’m not there you can ask someone else. If he tries to talk to you, just shout and run away.”   
  
“Can I shout and run away now?”   
  
“No. There’s breakfast on the stove, I’m off, and don’t you dare stay in bed all day. Your feelings of remorse will end up killing us both later.”   
  
Yuuri continued to lie there. His feelings of guilt and shame were warring within him, and, while they were busy, control of his body had been taken over by the desire to sleep. He fought it off as best he could – his exam, of course, had been and gone yesterday, but nobody had cancelled today’s two lectures. 

  
Nobody had cancelled yesterday’s events, either.   
  
How, just how, had he managed out of all people to cross paths with Viktor specifically? He looked like a goddamn model, what the hell was he doing on public transport late in the evening? Why the hell didn’t he just pretend that he hadn’t recognised Yuuri? 

  
This was some kind of punishment, although it was hard to say what for. Yuuri definitely had no time to even think about Viktor – and yet he was still consumed by him. Although there was no guarantee that that wasn’t a side-effect of the coffee/energy drink mix. 

  
The time on his phone hinted that, very shortly, a very real karmic punishment would crash onto his unfortunate head due to the missed lecture, and Yuuri jumped up, hurriedly tugging on his jeans.    
  
“Viktor, fuck, go to hell already,” he thought as he dressed, “life sucks enough without adding thinking about you to the mix.”   
  
*   
  
Yuuri closed the group chat, unable to tolerate seeing even one more meme about the end of the semester. He was glad, of course, but honestly, when the completely bizarre jokes start bubbling up from the depths of the student psyche, it started to put a damper on things.   
  
But the airy feeling of calm persisted. The nightmarish months of undersleeping and all manner and breed of stimulant consumption had ended, and now it was possible to be a normal citizen of the city for a couple of months, the kind that enjoys drinking coffee on its own and complains that six hours of sleep is too little.   
  
Too little, haha. Pathetic mortals.   
  
The train arrived, and Yuuri observed its packed interior dejectedly – but there was no point waiting for the next one, it was currently peak hour either way and the next train wasn’t going to be any better. That’s why he allowed the pressing crowd to squeeze him on board and tried to grab onto the railing, in order to not push up against some other unfortunate by accident. Especially since he wouldn’t be able to hear any shouts of complaint – the usual screaming music in his headphones protected him from any intrusion of surrounding reality.   
  
After a few minutes someone else desperately needed to get past to the doors, which is why Yuuri was forced away from one railing towards another, and then he completely lost his grip due to the pushing, but someone steadied him with their hand. Looks like good people  _ do _ exist in this world. Yuuri muttered “thanks”, not hearing his own voice, and only after had the thought to turn his head to look at his saviour.   
  
Of the almost seven hundred thousand people living in Detroit, the one and only Viktor had somehow managed to end up near him and was now looking forward, and, based on his finger movements, was listlessly flicking through songs on his playlist. 

  
Yuuri blushed and lowered his head. Blood flooded to his temples and he immediately felt hot – why right now? Why specifically on the train, where they were pushed into each other by an uncaring crowd? And why couldn’t Yuuri stop trying to sneak glances at Viktor, who, it seemed, wasn’t bothered by anything at all? 

  
At the next station the crowd shifted again, and Yuuri was already prepared to be pushed even further, but Viktor’s hand appeared at his shoulder again and neither of them moved anywhere. He’d thought that it was impossible to get any redder, but there is obviously no upper limit for idiocy. To everything else his body also added a hysterically excited heart rate – something had frightened Yuuri into a desperate need for Viktor to not be angry with him, and he must not be angry since he was holding on to keep him near.   
  
Alright, maybe, this was all unsurprising. Maybe – completely incidentally – Yuuri was glad that they continued to bump into each other on the train. 

  
Suddenly Viktor touched his arm, getting his attention, and offered him one of his earbuds. Yuuri froze for a second, then turned off his music and accepted, hearing more silence. Just for a second.   
  
  
  
_ “I see you walk by extra fly _ _  
_ _ Baby where you going can I roll” _   
  


 

  
Yuuri closed his eyes, knowing that now it was definitely impossible to continue reddening any further. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Viktor was smiling.   
  
  
_“Say somethin', if you’re feeling the vibe_ _  
__Say somethin', baby don't be so shy_ _  
__Say somethin', cuz you’re all in my head like”_  
  
  
  
Alright, fine, he gets a prize for having the most original pick up strategy, although not from the first attempt, but Viktor had succeeded. Surprising, that he continued to try, even though Yuuri had probably looked every time, like…   
  
No, that would be a bad joke. He shouldn’t go for that. No, no, no. 

  
Oh whatever, if nothing else, it wasn’t possible to give a worse impression at this point anyway.  
  
Yuuri quickly typed the name into his song library search and offered his headphone to Viktor, who was waiting patiently after the song had ended. Pressing play, Yuuri hoped that this prank would be worth it, even if it resulted in him pushing Viktor away a third time.   
  
  
_“I think it's so cute and I think it's so sweet_ _  
__How you let your friends encourage you to try and talk to me_ _  
__But let me stop you there, oh, before you speak”_  
  
  
  
Viktor’s facial expression was unforgettable. Yuuri chewed his lip, trying not to crack up laughing loudly enough to disturb the whole carriage. Nerves, it was all due to nerves.   
  
  
_“Nah to the ah to the, no, no, no_ _  
__My name is no_ _  
__My sign is no_ _  
__My number is no_ _  
__You need to let it go”_  
  
  
  
Somewhere in the middle of the track Viktor started typing on his phone, then turned the screen to Yuuri, looking up at him. He looked dismayed. 

  
“Are you serious? Just nod and I’ll go away.”   
  
Yuuri threw his head up and Viktor, seemingly taking that as a sign, stepped forward. Truth be told, he should let him leave, because this was all useless and pointless anyway, the next semester wouldn’t stop for anyone and he would soon have no time again for anything else. Especially not for such a handsome and romantic Viktor, who definitely deserved someone better than a nondescript student likely to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation and get hiccups from anxiety.   
  
But Yuuri grabbed hold of his arm, pushing down a surge of guilt. He should explain, at the very least.   
  
Viktor looked at him in surprise and offered his phone. There was another thing – you can’t just hand over your personal possessions to almost-strangers like that.    
  
“i was joking. sorry. it seemed funny at the time,” Yuuri typed and gave a rueful smile. Viktor, reading, sighed in relief.   
  
“It IS funny (if you ignore the context of you turning me down twice)” 

  
“the first time i was at work. the second i wasn’t quite myself” 

  
“Are you getting out at the same stop?”   
  
Yuuri decided not to type and simply nodded, as they had just arrived. Viktor went ahead, pulling him along by his hand, and that made it significantly easier to weave through the crowd. They tumbled out onto the station quite disheveled, but not squeezed flat – a feat in itself. They both removed their headphones, and Yuuri froze, feeling a sudden rush of awkwardness.   
  
They hadn’t even properly talked to each other once yet. Fuck. 

  
“Say something,” Viktor spoke first and chuckled. “Or I’ll have to turn on Mahone on the speakers again.”   
  
“No!” blurted Yuuri and covered his face with his hands. “Sorry. That just burst out.”   
  
“Didn’t get enough sleep again?” Viktor stepped in closer, and now Yuuri could pick up the subtle smell of a sharp cologne wafting from him. 

  
“More like I never stopped. Listen,” his heart sped up again as if from a long sprint, and Yuuri, blushing, pressed his lips together. He needed to pull himself together. “I… sorry, that it happened this way. Truly. But I don’t have time for all this. Just, in general. You saw what a state I was in. That’s why…”   
  
“Ok. May I walk you home?” Viktor interrupted his mumbling, unfazed.   
  
Yuuri blinked. And then again.   
  
“Weren’t you listening?”    
  
“Yes. You’re going home anyway, right? I can walk with you, and that won’t take much time.”   
  
Viktor smiled. He somehow managed to smile not just with his mouth, but with his eyes as well, and even with his whole body. This would all be ridiculously pointless, of course. 

  
Yuuri nodded and smiled back uncertainly. 

  
*   
  
There’s so much, it turns out, that you can find out about a person during a fifteen minute unhurried stroll in the slightly sprinkling rain.    
  
Yuuri couldn’t remember when he had last cared so little about his exhaustion, which previously was at the forefront of his thoughts and desires. Viktor chattered enough for the both of them, satisfied with the rare short responses and questions, or simply Yuuri’s laughter, managing to slide in a comment that Yuuri had an adorable laugh. 

  
By the time they made it to the student dorms, Yuuri had already regretted around forty times that he had allowed himself to be walked home, because now it would be forty times more excruciating to reject Viktor.   
  
“You won’t be able to come any further,” Yuuri muttered, stopping at the entrance gates to the campus.   
  
“Oh. Right. Of course,” Viktor sheepishly brushed aside his fringe. “Time sure flew past.”

  
“Uh-huh. Listen…”    
  
“Wait. Let me go first,” he took hold of Yuuri’s hands. “I have to admit, I’m not being very polite here, pushing you like this, especially considering you explained everything pretty clearly. But I really like you a lot. Truly. And I’m not particularly bothered by how busy you are.”    
  
“You’re not realising the sheer scale of my busyness. Sometimes I don’t get any sleep for days.” 

  
“But aren’t you currently awake and not exhausted, and even managing to talk to me?” 

  
“Viktor…” Yuuri tugged at his lower lip. Heavens above, he wanted to agree, but this was a terrible idea.   
  
“Do you think we could at least give it a shot?” Viktor asked, holding his gaze. “Trust me, I’m very good at time management. We’ll figure something out.” 

  
Common sense said: “What, are you seriously going to exchange your spare hours of sleep and quiet for some sort of relationship?”, anxiety said: “he’ll start to hate you for all this,” while Yuuri, digging his nails into his palms, said: 

  
“Alright. Let’s try it.”   
  
Viktor grinned widely and stepped in closer. He was definitely better at kissing than he was at selecting music.   
  
*   
  
“... and winked. And continued winking the whole time, until I ducked into the kitchen and asked Anna to take his order out to him,” Yuuri tried to speak more softly, in order to not announce the particulars of his work life to the entire train, but this was difficult as he and Viktor were standing near the emergency exit door and the noise from the train kept drowning out his words.    
  
“Horrible,” Viktor replied and squeezed his hands tighter, preventing Yuuri from toppling over when the train braked at the next stop. The crowd ebbed out and back in, and he could even feel the beginning of a cool breeze from the door.   
  
Yuuri closed his eyes, leaning his head onto Viktor’s shoulder. He felt unspeakably wrung out, but on the other hand was almost entirely calm – Viktor knew precisely where and when they needed to get off, had a good sense of time and didn’t get angry when it took Yuuri more than five minutes to coalesce his thoughts into comprehensible, human speech.   
  
Viktor was simply sent from heaven, and Yuuri was still in awe that they were dating six months later. 

  
They had managed to survive the winter semester – just now – and had fought only twice, and even then in the middle of the second fight Viktor had simply stopped in the middle of the street and said “I love you, which is why we’re going to continue this conversation tomorrow, when you’ve had some sleep.” At first Yuuri had felt completely ashamed, because they met up so rarely, and sometimes he didn’t have the energy even for phone conversations and texting, but then the workload at university had somewhat abated – and it had become easier.   
  
But even when Yuuri had felt that the whole world had pushed him to the edge, he was still so glad that Viktor existed in that world.  
  
“You know,” Viktor suddenly brought his mouth to Yuuri’s ear, “I get really annoyed by all those people who try to flirt with you at work. Even though I know they annoy you just as much.”  
  
Yuuri chuckled. That was something he’d realised long ago, although he was constantly so tempted to tease him about not having any solidarity with all those fellow seekers of romantic fortune. But he held back. Because he was definitely no better himself with his constant paranoia along the lines of ‘he doesn’t deserve to be stuck with all this and he’ll definitely leave to find someone better’.  
  
That’s why Yuuri simply offered Viktor his earphone. Viktor raised an eyebrow, but took it obediently. After all, no reason to leave a certain silly tradition by the wayside.   
  
  
_“And they say_ _  
__Do you need me?_ _  
__Do you think I'm pretty?_ _  
__Do I make you feel like cheating?_ _  
__And I'm like no, not really cause_ _  
__Oh I think that I found myself a cheerleader”_  
  
  
  
“Alright, I get it,” Viktor said, smiling. Yuuri pushed up onto his toes and kissed him on the reddened tip of his nose, almost falling over from the motion, of course, but Viktor held him steady. 

  
As always.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tumblr? [tumblr.](https://tasty-pile-of-glitter.tumblr.com)


End file.
